


let me take your place

by varulve



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 03:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8828452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varulve/pseuds/varulve
Summary: prompt from tumblr: "so what if mike got the career ending injury sliding to make that play to save the no hitter and ginny remained unscathed? #alltheangst"





	

8th inning, five outs to go, and she was about to lose it for herself. He took a breath, before calling for time from the ump and tossing his helmet up. Mike’s knees gave a quiet groan of disproval as he moseyed over to the mound, mentally preparing a speech to give her.

The words had barely begun to tumble, rather poorly, out of his mouth when she cut him off. It was all he could do to keep the look of awe and appreciation off his face. His girl had grown up, even if there was an ache in his chest as he listened to her words. As close as they’d come that night to completely showing their hands there was still so much Ginny kept close to the chest. He didn’t know what was going on with her, and where some of this vitriol was coming from.

He tried to lighten the mood, offer a joke but she sent him away. Okay, they had five more outs to go: time to get to work. He settled back into his spot, offering Ginny the sign and then setting up when she gave him a half-nod. It was a perfect off-speed pitch, catching the batter just off-guard as he fouled it off to the side. 

Mike’s helmet was clattering to the ground as he gave chase, ignoring the way his knees ached as he followed the ball. He had to get this out, for Ginny. They had to win, she deserved this more than anyone else he’d ever met. If she was going to give it one-hundred and fifty percent he’d be a fool to do anything else but match her.

As he made his way into the slide he realized he had mistimed it, as the ball landed perfectly in his glove he tensed his body for impact. The crowd rose up, gasping in horror as Mike, knee-first, collided with the concrete staircase.

The pain was immediate, the way his leg was tucked up under him was about as unnatural as it could be and the loud pop that had shaken through his body. “Fuck,” a voice - his voice - he realized, was screaming out a string of curse words. The trainer was there in an instant, carefully guiding his leg out form under him and waving over a couple of players to help get Mike onto his feet. He almost crumpled when he tried to put weight on his leg and the look that passed between Buck, Al, and the trainer told him everything he needed to know. 

“Tell ‘em I caught the ball,” he said through the mist of pain that was coursing through his body as he was half-carried through the tunnel to the trainers room.

Nobody wanted to blame Mike’s accident on why Ginny’s no hitter ended. Livan and Ginny managed to get out of the eighth only for a dribbler into Left Field in the ninth to end her no-no, her game, and her season.

Mike missed the ending as he was transported to the hospital to get evaluated.

The initial results indicated a torn ACL, along with medial and lateral meniscus tears. There was some other mumbo-jumbo mentioned about potential microfractures as well but all Mike heard was the death knell of his career. 

Ginny’s season might be over but she had more. She was young, she was talented, she had the whole world watching as she strode to the top of the game. But Mike? As they brought him in for yet another round of CAT Scans or MRIs or whatever fucking acronymic tests they were planning on running on him, he knew this would be it.

Nobody would wait on a 37 year-old catcher to recover through months of surgery and rehab when they had a younger and skilled catcher waiting in the wings.

Mike was quiet, trying to keep himself stable, until he was finally brought to the quiet room he’d be staying at while decisions were made and final results were gathered. Once he was alone he let the emotions bubble up.

Rage was first, that was always easiest for him. It was simple to be angry, there was no depth to that emotion.

Jealousy came next, a close relation to the red heat of anger was the green beast. He was so resentful of the younger players, of Livan, who had a whole career to look forward to.

Sadness was last, sneaking in as the other emotions subsided. He wasn’t ready to be done with baseball. He wasn’t ready for his career to be over because of some jackass, showoff play he made. He was sad that he wouldn’t be able to work with Ginny and watch her grow even further.

He had drifted off to sleep, at some point, and when he woke up he was vaguely aware of the fact that he was not alone. He opened and eye and saw Ginny, looking very small in one of the chairs in the room. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and dry. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” her voice is small in a way he isn’t used to. He sits up a little in his bed, trying to hide the flash of pain as his legs shift just a little. “It’s my fault, I-”

“Shut up,” Mike cuts across her, feeling a weight in his chest. “I was showing off, it was stupid, you didn’t do anything,” he looked at her trying to catch her eye but she wouldn’t meet his look.

She shifted in the chair, uncomfortable, “do you know?” The rest of the question goes unasked as she finally looks up at him. It doesn’t look like she slept, her eyes are wide in that sleepless way he recognizes instantly. He’s seen it on the longer flights, she never managed to sleep on planes. 

“I’m done,” he says quietly. It’s the first time he’s acknowledged it out loud. Suddenly the world feels too much and he can feel his heart beating too fast in his chest.

Ginny draws closer, her arms folded across her chest, “hey hey, just… just breathe, Mike,” she says softly. Her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder gently, her thumb brushing along the shape of his collarbone for a moment before she seemed to catch herself and pull it back.

Mike looked at her, but focused on his breathing. Slowly the weight seemed to alleviate and he shut his eyes for a moment. “I don’t know what to do without baseball, Ginny,” he admits quietly.

She looks down at her feet for a long while and when she finally looks back up there’s a sad look on her face, “you’re talking to the wrong person if you want help there Mike. From the moment I could throw a ball my father turned me into a baseball machine, I don’t know what to do without baseball either.” She paused for a moment before carefully sitting at the foot of his bed. “You ever think about coaching?”

The sharp bark of laughter that ripped out of Mike’s throat, and subsequent smile that spread across Ginny’s face suddenly makes that fear and anger slide away. “Can you really imagine that? Me working with the likes of you and Livan, Sonny, and Butch, the whole pitching and catching crew as a coach?” 

“There’d be ample opportunity for speeches,” Ginny teased, even if her dimples were fully displayed there still seemed to be a hint of guilt and sadness that clung behind her eyes.

Mike aimed to get rid of that before she left, “that’s true. Maybe you guys will actually listen to them if I have more authority.” Ginny’s laugh filled the whole room up with warmth.

They spent a good chunk of time like that, teasing back and forth until Ginny started to yawn into her elbow. Mike sent her off, thanking her quietly for the visit as he did, she only shrugged in response, as if to say there was no way she wouldn’t have come. With a wave over her shoulder she strolled out of his room and Mike was left to the quiet once more, awaiting whatever news the new day would bring.


End file.
